The Lady of Shalott
by Miss M Cricket
Summary: Sequel to The Lady of the Lake. 17 years ago Panem was Liberated, but at a terrible cost. Time has passed, many wounds have healed...but some have festered, fostering bitter resentment and rivalries, dragging Sky back into the world of politics and power. Meanwhile Sky's daughters, are beginning to ask questions about the past, determined to discover their family's legacy...
1. Chapter 1 - Hazel

**The Lady Of Shalott**

 _So here we are again. It's been an age since I finished The Lady of the Lake, and while I agree that it is a complete story on its own, I discovered I wanted to revisit these characters many years down the track._

 _It was never my plan that Panem would become a utopian society after the traumas of the war, and enough time has past for the immediate pain to have faded, and for discontent to brew. And the kids have reached an age where the questions start to be asked..._

 _Don't worry guys, Survival of the Fittest will continue as well, as is my Novel._

 _It's nice to return to my Panem, even if I didn't get to show many returning characters this chapter._

 _Chapters will alternate between two perspectives, Hazel's and Sky's as the story unfolds._

 _Chances are this won't be a saga the length of TLOTL, but this isn't a small story._

 _Thank you for returning to Panem with me_

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - Hazel**

My parents fought in the war.

That isn't a secret, in fact it isn't even that uncommon. Everyone knows that when the Rebellion began, the Snow Regime destroyed District 4 and 12, and the two districts relocated to District 13. They had to fight, the war had come to them, their homes had been destroyed.

My parents were young when the war broke out, the age when recruits graduate from Dad's Peacekeeper Academy. They were a perfect age to be soldiers, but there's something more to it, I know there is, because I've heard mum wake up with these awful, choked off screams, Dad holding her as she sobs. I hear it through the wall. I know Dad has nightmares too, he slips downstairs to his private gym out the back of the garden, I can see him through my window, and he always holds my Mum tighter those days, like he's afraid of losing her.

I asked them about it when I was younger, but they didn't really answer me. Mum just kissed my forehead and reassured me that nothing was wrong. Dad just ruffled my hair and told me that battle wounds take a long time to heal.

My parents fought in the war...but I think there's more to the story than they're telling me.

* * *

Sometimes it's hard to fathom that Teesa and I are sisters.

She's dynamic, a force of nature, athletic, fierce, passionate, goofy, and with the kind of confidence that someone like me can only watch and envy. Mum says that she's my Dad's daughter through and through, and it makes her laugh. They're both super competitive, and neither take losing well, so competitions between them invariably end badly, although it never stops them doing it. They can't help themselves, it's like an addiction, and when they go at it, Mum and I just slip away.

She's also attractive, with a slender, athletic physique, small and fine boned, with catlike green eyes and blonde hair. The boys in school love her, she's a badass, and charismatic, although she does have a tendency to talk before she thinks, and has limited patience, particularly for something she thinks is stupid.

I, on the other hand, prefer to stay in the background.

It's not that I don't like attention, in fact I don't mind it in the least, but next to Teesa, who practically demands all eyes following her, I don't mind taking a backseat. I'm the planner, the thinker, the analyser, and I know my sister values my opinion.

"It's stupid," she declares, and I look up at where she's curled up on the couch, books strewn about her as she scowls at them. Sprawled out on the rug, beside Aran, Darrien rolls over to took up at her, his bronze hair gleaming in the afternoon sunlight spilling through the windows as he puts down his book.

"What's stupid?" he asks, sneaking a smug look over at me, and I roll my eyes at him. It had taken me ten minutes to bully the two of them into actually sitting down and doing some vital homework, but I can see that Darrien has gleefully jumped at the chance to be distracted by whatever is bugging Teesa. The two of them may be two years my senior but most of the time, it feels like I'm the responsible one.

Darrien is Uncle Finnick's son and our next door neighbour. It's complicated, how we're all connected, but I know that even though we call them uncle, Finnick and Peeta aren't my Mum's brothers, at least not in blood. Legally yes, Mum mentioned adoption once, but….Darrien and I aren't related, not like I'm related to Theo, our Aunt Deccia's son.

Somehow, even though she's an only child, my mother ended up with a family that spans the length and width of Panem.

Anyway, even though we're not related conventionally, Darrien and Teesa are as thick as thieves. They're the two most charismatic and attractive students at school, and almost seems to like them, though there are the jealous among them who mutter unkindly about the two of them maybe being involved with each other.

It makes Teesa laugh herself sick, and Darrien just grins that killer smile. They'll never date, I know that. They see each other as a brother and sister do, they're too close to shift into any kind of attraction. But the unkind murmur, and the two of them laugh it off, before plotting their next bit of chaos.

Anyway, I digress…

"All this history crap." Teesa informs us disgustedly, waving a sheaf of notes at us, "We learn about the time before the Dark Days. We learn about the Dark Days themselves. And then we get this...bullshit…"

"Which is?" Aran hops up on his knees and peers over at her notes, "The Hunger Games?"

Aran is quiet, with dark brown, almost black hair, and soft blue eyes. He's handsome, although not as striking as charismatic Darrien or Jasper, he has his own, sensitive kind of good looks. He's a good guy, a real kind soul, and out of all us he's the one I feel I can go to no matter what.

Uncle Peeta is his father, but none of us know who his mother is. I don't think even he knows, and he's been like a part of our family for as long as I can remember. Uncle Peeta is one of my favourite people in the world, and his cooking is miles better than Mum's...and she's the best cook out of her and Dad and Uncle Finnick. Finnick is awful at it, I think he loses patience with it.

"Yeah," Teesa scoffs, "We spend, what, a lesson on this? And on the War? It's glossed over! I know about the Treaty of Treason, I know ABOUT the Hunger Games, I know they existed and that we had a War to free Panem from the Snow Regime, but...that's it!"

"But that happened less than 20 years ago," Darrien frowns, cocking his head to the side, "Is that even history?"

"Yes!" Teesa insists, "It's MODERN History! I'd much rather know about that, especially since our parents actually fought in this war!"

"We could ask Mum….or Dad?" I offer quietly, but Darrien scoffs as Teesa laughs.

"Yeah right," she barked another laugh, "I've asked Mum about it, she gets this...look...and clams up. Just tells me less than these stupid history books do. I mean, don't you want to know? I mean who knows what happened!"

"We do!" I insist, even as I know I'm fighting a losing battle, Teesa has this idea in her head now, "There was a war...and we won it."

"It might be better to let some things lie," Aran ran his fingers through his dark hair, "If they haven't told us...maybe it's better that we don't know any more than we do…"

"It's not enough," Darrien speaks up, and I see his handsome face is uncharacteristically serious, "We know they fought in the war, and we know my Mother died in it. Dad, barely talks about her, I think it's still too painful for him, even after all these years. I just...I wish I knew her you know? Anything, even the vaguest memory or fact, or...idea of her. I know she was kind, and gentle, but...that's it. Even if I knew what she did, where she was fighting when she died, where she died...that's more than I know now."

Teesa looks at me, and her face is determined, "Mum still cries." she says, and I nod, because she does, "Dad too...well he doesn't cry but there are times...he seems so far away. I want to know why. Something happened to them...and I want to know...it's a part of us too you know. And these school books aren't going to tell us…"

"What do you have in mind?" I sigh, resigned to my fate, but I do smile back when Darrien beams at me.

"You'll see," Teesa gets to her feet, determined now and full of that contagious energy, "But first, we're recruiting."

* * *

"Did you ever stop to think, that maybe they have a good reason for not telling us?"

Jasper and Pearl are even less enthused with the idea than I am.

The two of them live with their Dads on the other side of the street, and are the same age as Darrien. Their situation is even more complicated than ours, because Gloss, one of their Dads is actually their uncle, he adopted them after the War. Both of their parents died fighting, although I know that their Father, had been a medic with Uncle Peeta.

The twins are beautiful. I mean that seriously, they are two of the most attractive people I have ever met in my life, and that's saying something considering everything. Pearl has his soft blonde hair, and a delicate face and catlike soft brown eyes. She's stunning, and I know most of the boys at school secretly worship her but, she's got some serious brains too, and can calculate mathematical problems faster than anyone I know.

Jasper is an athlete, physically adept and with a kind of grace that makes him able to play, and master any game he sees fit. He's the first to climb a rope or run a field or hit a ball, and I know the selectors have their eye on him to compete in the Tournament.

The Tournament was brought in about ten years ago, to help foster peaceful competition and collaboration, and unofficially to fill the gap left by the Hunger Games with something more positive. It's based off something that was once called the Olympics, and brings together athletes from all the Districts and Capitol to compete in various feats of prowess.

I remember there had been an outcry when the idea was suggested, people had feared a return of the Hunger Games, but the Tournament has now become an incredibly popular fixture with all the Districts proudly competing. Uncle Peeta had been one of those upset by the initial suggestion, it's one of the only times I can remember him shouting at my Mum.

Jasper's natural athletic prowess, made him an ideal Candidate, and I know Dad also has his eye on him. Dad runs a Peacekeeper academy, but the training goes for Tournament competitors too.

Right now, Jasper has his arms folded, and Pearl has her hands on her hips as she glares at Teesa.

"There is no reason that would be good enough for us not to know what happened." Teesa declares, pointed chin tipping up in that stubborn way she has, "It's OUR history too! Don't you want to know about your parents? What they fought for?"

"What does it matter?" Pearl snaps, "They'll still be dead, we'll still be here. Nothing in those musty old books will tell us anything that will change anything."

"They're keeping it from us!" Teesa insists, "Out of love, or protection, or embarrassment or what, I don't know. But they aren't telling us everything. And it might not matter to you, but I want to know what it is that makes Mum cry and Dad not sleep. This is what we come from…"

"So many people fought in the War, everyone's parents have some kind of baggage from it…" Jasper points out quietly, "The War was brutal…"

"It's different." Darrien's voice is determined, "Even you have to admit it's different. Haven't you seen how people in the District look at Dad and Aunt Sky?"

"Uncle Finnick is the Consul of Four. Of course everyone looks at him. And Aunt Sky is his closest advisor, she's his Deputy." Jasper shakes his head.

"That's not it though!"

"They have a point," Pearl sighs, obviously annoyed by this fact.

"Our family is separate from the rest of the District, haven't you noticed?" I say quietly, speaking up for the first time, "We're all tight, but the rest of the District treats all our parents like...they're special."

Everyone nods, even Pearl, who still looks unsure.

"So?" Teesa tosses her blonde hair back over her shoulder, "You in?"

The twins look at each other and then back at us.

"Since you're obviously going to do this, with or without us," Pearl informs us, "We might as well come along, right?"

"Right." Darrien grins, "We'll meet up tomorrow after school...and go to the Library."

"The Library?" Aran frowns slightly, looking troubled, "Your Mum works at the Library sometimes…"

"She won't be there," Teesa, shakes her head, "She's heading out on the train to the Capitol late tonight...some big meeting. Uncle Finnick is going too."

"Then tomorrow it is," Darrien nods, and the rest of us nod back.

"Mum," I say softly, walking into her and Dad's bedroom, where she's packing her travel bag, "What's up?"

* * *

"Sweetheart," she straightens up and smiles, moving closer and enveloping me in a warm hug. She's a great hugger, even if Teesa thinks it's lame to hug your Mum at our ages. More for me, is what I think, "I've got a meeting, in the Capitol."

"Why?" I perch on her bed as she heads back to continue packing, "You're not the Consul."

She shoots me a small smile, green eyes warm, before she goes back to folding, "Long ago, I made the mistake of going to one of these small crisis meetings, and somehow down the line it became a permanent thing. For me, and for Finnick..although he got the job so really..."

"During the War?" I ask, unable to help myself.

Mum pauses and looks at me, serious and with that little conflicted frown she gets when she's worrying.

Mum's worried. And not just about my question….she's worried in general. Just how big a crisis is this, if she's got that look….?

"Yes," she says finally, voice quiet, "I went to these kinds of meetings during the War."

Then she seems to come back to herself, with a small shrug, "But this is nothing for you to be worried about love, I promise you that."

I hesitate, thinking of Darrien and Teesa's plans, and the discussions from this afternoon before I continue, "You don't talk about it at all...the War."

Mum stills again, and again those green eyes fix on me. I fight the urge to look down at the ground, and meet her gaze with my own. She swallows and gives a small pained smile as she moves to cradle my jaw in one gentle hand.

"I always knew one day you kids would get curious. I hoped it would never happen."

I don't know how to answer her, and after a moment she smiles again and strokes her thumb against my cheek.

"I promise, one day we'll talk about it,"

"When?" I can't help the word, and I feel my Mum withdraw slightly.

"Soon,"

She returns to packing and I look at the photos on her bedside table, trying to remember the last time my mother lied to my face like that.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 2 - Sky

**The Lady Of Shalott**

 _So here we are, Chapter 2. This is more of a world building type of chapter. A lot has changed in Panem in 17 years, and Sky is a grown woman now, so it was interesting adjusting to her new voice. The action will be picking up over the next few chapters, as next Chapter we will be back with Hazel and the others._

 _As of this chapter I won't be doing Review responses here in the body of the story...but if you submit a logged in review I shall endeavor to answer you!_

 _Thanks everyone,_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - Sky**

Teesa was ten when she asked us the first time.

It was dinner time, the sun setting across the water, and Cato had just come home from work, shedding his uniform to tug on some looser, more comfortable clothes, scooping little Hazel up into his arms as he returned to the kitchen. Teesa was sitting with her homework in front of her, her little face frowning as she looked down.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" I remember asking her, sweeping around behind, to start clearing away papers so we could all sit down for the family meal we all share. I remember brushing my hand over her hair, the soft golden colour of her father's side of the family. She was so much like Cato, still is, fierce and independent, and with a competitive streak a mile wide. She's fiery and feisty like her aunt, passionate and powerful like her adoptive uncle. In truth there is not very much of me in my eldest child, apart from the colour of her eyes, she's a Du'Grey through and through, although Deccia informs me she inherited my brains.

I suspect she just says that to annoy Cato, however.

Teesa looked up at me, with those big, catlike green eyes, and she asked me the question I'd always dreaded hearing.

"Mum, what are the Hunger Games?"

It wasn't like I hadn't known the question would come. It was inevitable.

The Hunger Games are a part of our history, and although they have been gone for more than 17 years now, I can still remember every detail of my time in the Arenas. The old wounds still hurt, although they are dulled by time and distance. I try not to linger on the pain of those few years of Games and Rebellion, but the scars sometimes remind me.

I don't remember the exact answer I gave Teesa, but I know it wasn't a full one, not one that would satisfy a young girl as veracious , tenacious and as adventurous as my daughter. But it was enough for then...and she soon forgot about the topic among all the new things she began to study.

But now she's seventeen years old. She and Darrien, Jasper and Pearl, are now all 17 years old.

Over the years I have taught students about our history, about the Hunger Games and the Rebellion. It hurts of course, but the importance of it can't be ignored, or overstated. It's vital. It's imperative. To ignore history, to gloss over the pains of the past, that is to open the door to events repeating themselves, for a new generation of conflict some time in the future.

But as a mother...oh I wish I could leave my daughter in the dark about her mother and father's past. I wish the Hunger Games weren't such a spectre in our lives.

I know they need to be told...but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

* * *

"The kids are getting curious," I murmur to Cato as we walk through the crisp night air of an early spring evening.

We're heading to the train station, my bag slung over his shoulder, my arm tucked in his. Finnick is delayed at the new Council building, which stands across from the ruin of the building that was once the Hall of Justice. He'll meet me at the station, and it gives my husband and I time together, just the two of us.

At the end of the rebellion, we'd been so broken, two people who loved each other, but hurt so badly they weren't sure the jagged pieces of themselves could ever line up to fit together. Time has been kind to us, letting us rediscover each other, and grow together, and slowly become even closer than we ever were.

We're a team, parents of two beautiful girls, and happy with our lives.

Sometimes it's like all those horrible things that happened to us were just a dream…

"Of course they are," Cato sighs, and I can hear his own regret in the words, "They're smart kids, all of them. It's understandable that they'd start to suspect we've been protecting them from things."

"We have to tell them don't we?" I lean my head against his shoulder, and smile softly as his muscled arm curls around my shoulders, "I hoped this day would never come."

"I know, me too, but it was always going to. Maybe we should make Finnick tell them all, or Peeta."

"We can't make Finnick do it," I shake my head slightly, "It's hard enough even now, thinking of Annie."

For a moment, as though it were yesterday, I see her dark green eyes, and that impossibly sad but determined smile as she opened her hands to reveal the grenade. Her son has her eyes, although they are far more lively and present than hers had ever been. I'd only known her after she became a Victor, after the hammer of the Games cracked her along all her fault lines and broke her apart.

Cato nods, he also knows how hard the last seventeen years have been for Finnick. He's never really let go of Annie, can't let go of her even now. No other woman could match her in his eyes, and so he remained alone.

For all it hurts to think of another in the place Annie should have been, a part of me can't help but wish for his happiness, wish there could be another love for him, even if it isn't the great love that Annie was.

But I remember almost losing Cato. Would I have been able to open myself up to another after losing my husband, the father of my daughter?

I genuinely don't know.

"And Peeta…." Cato sighs, "You know how much I love him, he'd do it well, and properly...but these are our daughters...it should come from us...from you."

"I love how us, became you, so quickly." I roll my eyes and grin as I hear him laugh.

"You, because you're the communicator. I break the skulls, you talk sense into them, that's how this works. This isn't a skull breaking type of thing...so….you're the better one to do it."

"Coward," I sigh, because I always knew it would come down to me, "Or I could ask Deccia, or Haymitch to do it."

And I grin as Cato's laugh fills the air around us.

* * *

The train links between the Districts have undergone a massive renovation in the last 17 years. Train travel between Districts is quick, easy and comfortable, encouraging movement between the many different regions, something that the Capitol had actively discouraged, fearing collaboration and rebellion.

Now we can travel from District 4 to the Capitol in only a few hours, rather than the half a day it had once taken.

"I'll talk to the kids when I come back," I tell Cato at the station, resting my forehead against his chest, savouring his tight hug around me, "Look after yourself while I'm gone, yeah?"

"Of course," he chuckled, and the sound rumbled through me, "When have I not?"

It makes me smile even now to think of, as the train whizzes through the countryside, a book on my lap, as Finnick sits at the small desk in our compartment.

I can tell he's nervous; his fingers are combing and tugging through his hair, like they only do when he's truly frazzled, and so I get to my feet and wander over to him.

"Hey," I say softly, gripping his shoulders gently before giving them a small rub, "You okay?"

"No," he sighs, and leans back into my touches, eyes closing as he tips his head back against my stomach, "This Sponsors are a worry,"

That makes me almost pause, before I force myself to continue, "I was under the impression it wasn't that bad." although the fact that the Consuls have been called for a special meeting, did lend the emergency far more weight, even if the official word from the Capitol was dismissive of the rebel group.

"It's bad enough," Finnick looks up at me and smiles tiredly. It's been good for him, this job and position, and his popularity in the District has never been higher, because everyone knows how hard he works. But sometimes, I can see the strain, which is exactly why I am his deputy, as well as his sister, "Capitol malcontents, wanting the old ways back again.I'll never understand that..."

Five years back a group cropped up calling themselves the Sponsors. They demanded freedom and liberty for the Capitol, and a return to the prior system of government. Naturally their calls were met with outrage, and we've been watching their antics ever since with concern, because although the Districts rejected their cries for action, they have quite a lot of Capitol support. Particularly from the older generations of Capitol citizenry, who lived all those years believing in their way of life.

In the last six months their activity has shifted from a message to more aggressive marketing, with protests, rallies, and attempts to more widely broadcast their message, and now it appears that violence is on the horizon.

"You should rest," I say quietly, running my fingers through his hair and smiling as his eyes close happily at the touch, "You won't be able to solve the problems of Panem before we get to the meeting."

"But…"

"Finnick." my voice is firm, and he sighs before nodding.

When we met, many lifetimes ago, or so it seems, Finnick appeared supremely confident, charming, and at first, terrifying to a girl who'd only talked to people in the archives or at school when she had to. Then he'd been the Mentor who'd known everything, my font of all knowledge, my guide when I was floundering and lost. I had little faith in myself, so I'd trusted him completely, unreservedly, and somehow I'd come out alive. Slowly our dynamic shifted from teacher and student, to brother and sister.

And over the years since Annie, it is my turn to look after him.

* * *

The Citadel was constructed about ten years ago, a tall piercing building that cut through the Capitol skyline like a cresting wave. It's beautifully designed, with stylish interiors, and is the centre of administration for Panem. The Consuls all have offices here, and each of the Districts has a floor to liaise with the administrations across the country. Governmental departments are all housed here too, and so it's a hub of activity. Finnick and I ascend to the District 4 floor, set with a huge panoramic view of the city, and are greeted by Auralia. I can never remember her full title, it's long winded and fussy, but essentially she's an organiser, particularly of Consuls.

"Good!" she chirps, walking over to us and brushing thick sea blue hair back off her shoulder. Although the Capitol has been dialed back several notches as far as physical enhancements go, many of the residents still enjoy wigs, or hair dye, "You're on time. Here are some forms to sign Consul," she hands Finnick a small pile of documents, which he immediately passes over to me, as I glare at him "And the meeting will begin in ten minutes. You have messages as well, apparently."

She nods over at the young man behind the glassy desk, responsible for funnelling all District 4 news and messages to the appropriate place. Berius waves at us and Finnick grins back before nodding to me and heading over to collect his messages. Leaving me with the pile of paperwork.

Rolling my eyes, I head into my office, which is small, but pleasant and settle down in my chair behind my desk.

Then I open the first file and get to work.

* * *

The middle floor of the tower is where the Council chambers are, a cavernous room of glass and delicate architecture, dominated by a large round table.

I have to admit the table was my idea, drawing from those Arthurian legends that had served me so well. The concept was simple, on a round table no one could complain that they were seated at the bottom, and no one could entertain airs that they were at the top. The 14 Consuls are equal with no higher chief to try and attain ultimate power.

28 seats are set around the table, and I move around to place my things down in the second of the royal blue coloured chairs, seated in front of the District 4 sigil banner.

Around the table I see familiar faces, although a few have chosen to retire. Ria is still District 5's Consul, now with long streaks of silver through her dark hair, and lines around her blue eyes. She's still as poised as ever though, elegant in a way to be envied.

She and Lucan turned out to be unable to have children, which was hard on both of them. Cato had talked to his brother about it a few times, but that was all, both of them being private people. They'd ended up adopting, two children who'd been orphaned by the war.

Johanna had been the Consul for 7 for a few years before she quit, refusing the re-election. She's now a freelance physical trainer, travelling between the Districts and Capitol. Cato gets her in to scare the new recruits. Most of them hero worship her now.

Paylor has been the District 8 Consul since the War ended. She was a Commander in the Forces, leading our front lines. I never met her back in those days, as I was kept in District 13 until Teesa was born and then until the climax of the Battle in the Capitol. Cato met her in District 2 however, back when the Capitol was still struggling with our Resistance.

She's older now, as we all are, but she's still got that quality, that aura of command that Katniss and Cato share. She's intelligent, and brave, and is a voice of reason for the council on behalf of District 8. It was one of the most devastated Districts in the War, after District 12 and District 4, but out of all of them the most people died in that District. They lost so much, but have come far under Paylor's guidance and the assistance of the other Districts. They have taken their Textile produce to the next level, sending out clothing designers and retailers across Panem.

Chaff only served five years for District 11 before retiring. He died a few years ago, and was farewelled in a quiet ceremony and cremation outside the wheatfields.

Most of the representatives are new, none of them career politicians. We are reimbursed for our work, paid a wage common with the Panem average, so it lacks the glitz and glamour that might draw more corrupt individuals to these seats.

I look up in time to see Katniss and Haymitch walking over to us and I grin at them, always happy for the chance to see the two of them.

Katniss has matured into a beautiful woman, looking healthier now than she had back when I first knew her. Her dark hair is twisted back elegantly, but simply, and as always she refuses to wear any makeup, although those striking grey eyes don't need the extra adornment.

She and Gale parted ways about ten years ago, after having a child together, the split being tense but reasonably amicable. Both of them knew they'd come to the end of the road, and the separation had been more of a formality than a surprise. Rose is around 12 years old now, and is a determined little soul, serious and clever.

Haymitch and Deccia are still together, with five rambunctious children. The eldest is Theo, who is just a little older than my Hazel, and he often visits, getting along brilliantly with Jasper. He too is an athlete, although his smart mouth and sarcastic humour get him into trouble. He's followed by Pia, Arias and May, who we suspect may owe her name to the girl from 12 Haymitch lost during his Hunger Games, and finally Isabella.

The last 17 years have only done Haymitch good, softening him from the on edge, drunk and sour, soul who'd despaired of the world ever changing, to a sarcastic, dry tongued planner, whose bargaining skills had earned District 12 quite a lot of respect.

"Good to see this meeting has dragged District 4 away from its sunbathing," Haymitch drawls after the hugging and greetings have subsided, "You two look so relaxed."

I glance at Finnick, whose eyes are still shadowed from his late night, and then back at him, knowing I must look as awful as I feel. I too hadn't slept very well, worrying about telling the kids about the Games.

"As always you could charm a pearl from the tightest clam, Haymitch," Finnick's response is dry, but he's grinning as he steps forward to hug the other former Victor. I give Katniss a small hug as well before kissing Haymitch's cheek.

"Hello Haymitch, how's the family?"

"A pain in my ass."

"So normal then?" Finnick laughs, before lifting Katniss' hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against the back of it, "As always you are a drink of water in a desert drear, dearest Katniss."

Haymitch rolls his eyes, and I cover my grin as Katniss flushes and tries to extricate her hand, as always flustered by his purposely heavy handed compliments.

Finnick grins and lets go of her hand, even as she glares at him.

It's a game between them. A competition.

Finnick almost always wins...and it drives her crazy.

"How's Peeta?" Haymitch asks me, as Finnick and Katniss start talking, bronze and dark heads bowed close together as they discussed, "It's been a while since I visited District 4, I've got a craving for his baking."

"He's well, and the most popular baker in 4." I smile as I think of my adoptive brother's accomplishments, "He was able to renovate a few months ago, the bakery is huge now, and incredible."

"We'll have to head over soon then." He cocks his head, "And how are your girls?"

"They're well." I hesitate before admitting, "They...uh...have started asking questions, about the Games."

Haymitch's face sobers, and he shakes his head, "I'm not rightly looking forward to that conversation myself one day." he sighs, "Deccia says we should send them to you, to learn."

"Oh gee thanks!"

He grins, "You're the storyteller, I'm sure you won't make us sound like the loons we rightly were."

"I'm dreading it...have to start explaining when I get back."

He grips my shoulder and squeezes sympathetically, "Good luck with that…"

"Thanks," I smile weakly and look over to see sea green and grey eyes watching us. Katniss is frowning slightly and Finnick has that look, that distant, sad expression that I know is him feeling guilty when he thinks he's been relying on me too much.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would take your seats?" the Consul from 1 calls, and we all look up, "The meeting is about to begin."

"See you after," Haymitch nods at us and heads around the table. I'm about to take my seat when Katniss grips my arm gently.

"Come talk to me after?" she murmurs, grey eyes meeting mine, "I think we have a few things to discuss."

I nod, and she heads off to her seat as the lights dim and the meeting gets underway.

* * *

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

 _Submit Signed in reviews and I will be able to respond!_

 _See you all soon!_


	3. Chapter 3 - Hazel

**The Lady of Shallot**

 _ **Hey everyone!**_

 _ **Back from my epic holiday of epicness.**_

 _ **Had a great time, but back on the daily grind which includes writing. I will try to regularly update this story and Survival of the Fittest, but I do have a lot of warring priorities on my time, including the TWO novels I'm writing.**_

 _ **I was thinking of setting up a Discord so you guys can talk to me, and each other, post stuff and motivate me. I say this because nothing pulls me back into writing, and focusing like hearing from you guys, my readers. You are incredible and my inspiration. You help me do this, and I always wish I could talk to you about the Novels, and the Characters.**_

 _ **Anyway, if you'd like to be part of the Discord community just say so in your review and I'll provide you a link.**_

 _ **Thanks everyone!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Hazel**

Mum's gone by the time Teesa and I get up in the morning.

The house always seems much quieter when she's not there, like some life has left it, and it's obvious Dad misses her when she's gone. Fortunately this meeting shouldn't take long, so he's not hanging about sulking, too much.

That's what I call it, 'sulking'.

Mum calls it brooding, and laughs at him for it.

But she pines too if he has to leave the District. It's kind of sweet how much they still love each other, even after all the time they've been together. Teesa thinks it's gross, but she doesn't have a romantic bone in her body.

School drags by, and I keep catching Aran's gaze from across the classroom, as the hand inches towards the end of the day. I barely focus, and I'm thankful when the teachers don't call on me for anything.

A part of me is excited, and I know that's the part that is insatiably curious, wanting to learn, but there's a large part of me that's really worried about what we'll find. What could be so horrible that it makes my mother so sad and unhappy on Remembrance Day? What could be so devastating that it makes my Dad, who's not afraid of anything, pale and withdrawn every year?

Some things can't be unseen, or unlearned, and I know it's going to be big enough that it's going to change everything.

Do I want that? Is my curiosity enough to warrant this?

"They're not going to tell us," Aran points out quietly, blue eyes concerned as I broach the question with him, "Or they would have done it already right? There have been plenty of times I've asked Dad...and he fobs me off every time. I think….I think I need to know...I need to know where I've come from."

He has a point.

So when the last class ends, and everyone spills out onto the sand, I fall into step with him, and with Jasper as Teesa strides out ahead of us, Darrien and Pearl by her side.

I hope I don't regret it.

* * *

The Library was built by Mum.

Or rather she was the one who advocated for it, channelled public funds to it, and set it up. It's her baby, and everyone knows how proud she is of it. It's an information hub, a way of sharing information between all the Districts and Capitol, with massive databases of information, always accessible.

We take the terminal tucked towards the back of the library, a small secluded room with a table in the middle and a projector. It's all voice activated, so when we're all settled we look at Teesa.

This was her idea, and now that we're here I can see we're all feeling a little daunted.

She rolls her eyes and stands, pressing a hand against the touch sensitive plate to activate it. A soothing female voice murmurs from the walls.

"Welcome to the Library, how may I assist you?"

"We're looking for information on the Mockingjay War." Teesa speaks loudly and clearly.

"Searching...what information in particular about the Mockingjay War do you require?"

She glances at us, and we look back, before she straightens up and says,

"We are looking for information on…" here she hesitates, before glancing at Darrien, "Finnick Odair."

"Finnick Odair is the current Consul of 4, a former Victor of the 65th Hunger Games and a former Tribute of the 75th Hunger Games, also known as the 3rd Quarter Quell," the smooth voice speaks and I feel Darrien tense up beside me, "Is there information in particular you would like about him?"

"Victor?" Darrien shakes his head, "I don't understand...he can't have been in the Hunger Games…"

"Tell us about the 65th Hunger Games," Teesa orders the computer and the projection screen lights up with footage.

There in illuminated relief is a young man that is uncannily like Darrien, except that his eyes are sea green, his hair is a brighter bronze shade and he's younger. It's unmistakably Uncle Finnick, young, so young, and frightened as his name is called by a crazily dressed woman. He's joined by a girl, but the camera doesn't linger on her.

We watch as he rides in a horse and carriage, dressed as a merman and then we're provided with a file labeled interviews.

By this point Darrien is pale and Teesa is shooting him worried looks.

My gut is churning because we know enough of the Games. They were evil, awful, despicable, and they forced children to kill each other until only one remained. A Victor.

Like Uncle Finnick.

"Uncle Finnick was a Victor…" Aran whispers into the silent room,

"He's still a Victor." Teesa corrects, although even she looks unsettled, "It's not a title you lose."

"Show us the Games," Darrien orders and the smooth voice returns.

"Would you like the full footage, or the recap version?"

"The Games could go for weeks," Jasper points out.

"Wait," I turn to Darrien, and rest my hand on his arm. He's so tense, I can practically feel him vibrate with it, "Darrien...we don't have to watch this…"

We're all silent as the dark green eyed boy stares at the projection screen.

"Show it."

"Recap." Teesa orders.

It's strange, seeing Uncle Finnick like this. He's as charming as ever, despite his youth, and he speaks with a confidence that was as compelling then as it is now. Counting back I realise that he's only 14 at the time of this footage, although you wouldn't know it to watch it.

The worst moment is when he starts killing. I feel Darrien start to shake as the trident stabs into another boy's abdomen, and the others flinch at the sound. But it's not the only death...

By the end Darrien is even paler and Aran looks a bit green, while Jasper looks stunned and Pearl thoughtful.

Teesa meanwhile has that look on her face that spells trouble.

"Uncle Finnick is a Victor,"

I glance at Darrien, but he's staring at the screen, seemingly lost in stunned silence, so I ask the question I know he's itching to know.

"Tell us about Annie Odair," I say quietly, and all their faces turn towards me, before turning back to the screen.

"Annie Cresta, deceased." the voice intones, "Former Victor of the 70th Hunger Games, killed in the Coin Coup of District 13."

"My mum was a Victor too?" Darrien looks like he's reeling from this information.

The rest of us glance at each other uneasily.

"What about Peeta Mellark, Cashmere and Fells Raynott, Cato and Sky Du'Grey,?" Teesa asks.

The voice begins to speak and shows a series of images, each of our parents and guardians, young and then again a little older, but still much younger than they are now.

"Peeta Mellark, Resident of District 4, former Victor of the 74th Hunger Game and a former Tribute of the 75th Hunger Games, also known as the 3rd Quarter Quell,"

"Oh my god," Aran whispers.

"Cashmere Brooks, deceased," the voice continues unrelenting, "Former Victor of the 64th Hunger Games and a former Tribute of the 75th Hunger Games, also known as the 3rd Quarter Quell, killed in the Coin Coup of District 13. Fells Raynott, former Victor of the 56th Hunger Games and a former Tribute of the 75th Hunger Games, also known as the 3rd Quarter Quell, killed in the Battle for the Capitol."

Jasper looks poleaxed but Pearl has her hand over her mouth, soft brown eyes wide, "They're all Victors…"

"Cato Du'Grey, current Head Peacekeeper of District 4, former Victor of the 74th Hunger Games and a former Tribute of the 75th Hunger Games, also known as the 3rd Quarter Quell,"

Dad was a Victor?

But that must mean…

"Schuyler Cavendish, current Deputy Consul, former Victor of the 74th Hunger Games and the former Victor of the 75th Hunger Games, also known as the 3rd Quarter Quell,"

Mum…

"Aunt Sky?" Aran shakes his head, "But she...she couldn't…"

"She's a Victor." Teesa slams her hands down on the table and ignores the smooth voice warning against loud noises in the Library, "They all fucking are!"

"What about Gloss Brooks and Sefir Ashworth?" Jasper asks the computer and the smooth voice begins listing out their own Hunger Games.

I feel like ice has been poured down my spine, chilling, clammy ice that clings to my skin.

" _I hoped it would never happen."_ Mum's voice rings in my mind, and I see her sad eyes gazing at me as I asked her about the War.

The History books cite 'The Victors' as being instrumental to the defeat of the Capitol, and the Mockingjay, which we knew was Aunt Katniss…

My mind is swirling, like dirty water at the bottom of the tub, and I can hear the others' voices rising in confusion and distress as arguments break out.

Suddenly clarity spears through and I pause, considering.

"Computer," I say and the group falls silent, looking at me. "How did so many Tributes survive the 74th and 75th Hunger Games?"

"A rule change was implemented part way through the 74th Games, allowing two Tributes to win if they allied themselves to reach the end. The final four Tributes were Cato Du'Grey of District 2, Schuyler Cavendish of District 4, who were allied, and the second pair consisting of Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen of District 12. Before the final pair could die, the Games were ended by executive order of President Snow. Thus Four Tributes became Victors."

I glance at Aran, who looks back at me, with those big blue eyes so like his father's. Our parents were once enemies….which is weird to contemplate considering their adoption of each other, and Uncle Finnick.

"Each Quell Games, the 25th, the 50th and the 75th contained a twist. The twist of the 75th Hunger Games was that the contestants were Reaped from the existing pool of Victors. This is now commonly believed to have been orchestrated to deliberately target Katniss Everdeen of District 12, the only female Victor in her District, and a source of unrest. Technically only one Victor survived the Quell, which was the female District 4 Victor, Schuyler Cavendish, although this was revealed to have been planned when the fallen Victors were shown to have been revived."

"That's why the computer says Mum is the Victor of the 75th rather than a Tribute…" Teesa considers this, tapping her lip.

We all look at each other, unsure what to ask next.

"How many people did the Tributes we asked about kill in the Games?" Jasper finally asks, causing a spike of anxiety to prick my belly.

"Fells Raynott 2, Sefir Ashworth 3, Cashmere Brooks 4, Gloss Brooks 4, Finnick Odair 5, Cato Du'Grey 6, Peeta Mellark 1, Annie Cresta 0, Schuyler Cavendish 0."

My gut clenches again. Mum had managed to survive without killing anyone, but Dad...Dad had…

"Do we know enough now?" Aran's voice is quiet but a little bitter, "How could they be the Victors and not tell us!"

* * *

We reach home and hesitate by the fountain. Aran and Jasper and Pearl live on one side of the street, while Darrien, Teesa and I live on the other. It's almost supper time, which means we should be getting back into our homes.

But none of us want to separate.

How can we look at our parents, without thinking about everything we'd learned that afternoon? Dad is a killer, and Mum is a Victor twice over. How could they keep this from us? This terrible inheritance.

"And just what are you lot all up to?" A deep voice rumbles behind us, and we all jump and turn, grinning nervously up at Uncle Sefir. He's tall, with thick dark hair, and tanned skin which is a little lined and weathered. For a moment all I can see is the brash, dark haired teenager and then the man, broad shouldered and arms folded, younger than he is now.

And I remember the voice, telling us about Sefir Ashworth having 3 kills in his Games.

He's grinning at us, his face warm and familiar, but the smile fades slightly as he takes in our faces. His eyebrow quirks up, and he gives us all a look.

"Alright...what have you lot done?"

"We went to the Library," Darrien says quietly, clearly hoping to skirt around the issue, "For...research purposes."

Sefir nods, face clearing slightly, "Well that doesn't sound so-"

"How could you not tell us that you were a Hunger Games Victor!?" Teesa blurts out, and the man's face pales as I slap my hand against my own forehead in exasperation.

Once again my sister has all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

To the face.

"What..?" Sefir chokes out, staring at us, one by one, before sighing, "Shit…"

"It's true then?" Jasper folds his arms, glaring at his guardian, "You were a Victor?"

"Yeah," Sefir admits, sighing again as he, perhaps unconsciously, mirrors Jasper's pose, "I'm a Victor."

We stare at him for a moment, and then glance uneasily at each other.

"So...in the war…" Aran asks quietly, voice trailing off.

Sefir smiles slightly.

"Yeah, I fought in the War...in a way." he glances at our expectant faces and chuckles quietly, "Y'see the history books give the dates of the Mockingjay War as between the Quell and the Battle for the Capitol. Thing is, there was a long lead up to it. Rebellion was brewing for years before the 74th Games, the one that Cato, Sky, Peeta and Katniss won. Afterwards...well we knew it was our time. Anyway I did a lot of work for the Rebellion in 5 in those years leading up...laying the groundwork. And a few battles during the official War too."

Listening to the machine in the Library had been chilling, cold hard facts dropped like stones into a still pond. But listening to Uncle Sefir, his gruff voice answering our questions without hesitation...it made it seem less daunting, less horrifying.

"Did you know my Mother?" Darrien asks quickly, before any of us can jump in, and Sefir's smile cracks a little.

"Yeah I knew your Mum." he says softly, "Was a Mentor during her Games…" seeing our confusion he chuckles, "I forget how this isn't common knowledge anymore. Mentors were Victors, forced by the Capitol to guide that years Tributes through the Games, try and get them Sponsors and keep them alive from outside. Anyway I saw her win...she won when they flooded her Arena. No one else could swim, and she survived."

Darrien's face crumples slightly, but I know he's relieved.

"How...how did she die?"

Sefir shakes his head, obviously pained, "Shit...Darrien did your dad never tell you…"

"He said she died in the War," Darrien's mouth grew stubborn, "But I remember Aunt Sky talking about her once like...like she was fragile."

"She was." the big man nods, sadly, "Her Games broke something in her mind. She never fully recovered. But she was a lovely soul, gentle, kind. She loved your Dad something fierce, and your Aunt Sky too as a sister." he rubs a hand through his hair, "Annie um...do you know anything about the Coin Coup?"

"Yeah," Aran nods, big blue eyes curious, "Coin tried to eliminate threats at home and in the Capitol in order to seize power, but was thwarted. Lots of people died though…"

"Your Mum was the reason Coin failed," Sefir's voice is quiet, and Darrien's eyes widen in his pale face, "I was there. We were beaten, captured, they were going to execute us. But Annie got a hold of a grenade...and took out both herself and the leader of the Coup. She did it for you...they were going to kill us Victors...and the babies too," he nods at Jasper, Pearl and Teesa.

Darrien turns away, shoulders shuddering, and I wrap an arm around him, desperate to offer him some comfort.

My shirt grows damp at my shoulder, but I don't say anything as Darrien shivers against me.

"I'm sure you all have lots of questions," Sefir's voice is soft, "Shit...we were hoping for a bit longer before we had to talk to you about this…"

He's cut off though by our front door slamming open and Dad barrelling out into the sunset glow, an expression on his face that I've never seen there before..one that is fierce and terrifying all at once.

Uncle Peeta follows him, pale and anxious, and clutching two jackets, as well as Dad's bag and his own as he staggers after him.

"Sefir!"

Dad's voice cracks across the air, and I feel rather than see Sefir straighten a little, alert.

"Get the kids inside, and get bloody Gloss home now."

"What's wrong?" I've never heard that tone of voice from my uncle either, and I can feel cold, clammy fear beginning to skitter down my spine. "Cato! What's bloody happened!"

"Attack in the Capitol." Dad's jaw is clenched so tight I'm surprised I can't hear it creaking. "The Council's been attacked."


End file.
